a moment in time
by mejara
Summary: Every now and then, you are given a glimpse of what could have been. Past choices don't matter and you find possible futures. What if things had been different for Draco and Hermione? What when they learn what could have been?


I'll try to keep this author's note short: this is my first, and if the plot bunnie leaves me alone from now on, probably my last. I've not named anyone in this fic, even going so far as not to specify the gender (To me, however, this is dramione). I'm not saying wether or not this moment changed their life. That's up to you to decide.

My thanks goes out to my friend Jessie, a wonderful beta, who never once complained about my perfectionism or tendency to to use her as a personal dictionary-slave. Lots of Edward to you, dear.

Disclaimer: anything you might recognise, is not mine, but J.K. Rowling's (unless you've been snooping around in my head, in wich case you're probably fairly deranged by now)

_Every now and then, we are given a glimpse of what could have been. "If reality had been different, life would look like this". Such a moment in time cuts you out of the fabric of normal life, and temporarily brings you to a place where you may learn of 'what could have been'. Such a moment gives you power to see the bigger picture, how people are shaped by circumstances, and how they may be changed. As they say: "the past is a memory, the future a dream. All we have is the present". You cannot change the past, but those brave enough to dream can shape the future._

_This is the story of such a moment._

I'm standing on the balcony, enjoying the cool night breeze. I've managed to escape the social drudgery that is inevitable at this sort of parties. I was not born for this, and I fear that I will never be at ease at these events. That is why, on evenings like this one, I kindly excuse myself now and then, for a breath of fresh air and a moment to myself. Today, the balcony was my escape.

However, all good things come to an end, and so I resign myself to going back inside and submerge myself yet again in the shark pond that is high society life.

I softly turn around, throwing one last wistful look at the night sky, and start walking towards the double doors that will lead me back to the party. And then I freeze. Standing before me, framed by the light filtering through the glass doors, is you. You are facing me, and though your features are obscured, I instantly recognised you. I feel my eyes widen, my jaw drop slightly. I see my expression mirrored on your face. It would seem you have not forgotten me either.

We stand there, seemingly immobilized. Then we suddenly each take a step forward, towards each other. We are standing so close now that I have to tilt my head in order to see your face. I feel as if I should be saying something. Words are bubbling up, constricting my chest. I open my mouth but nothing is heard. Even as I try, I see you struggle for something to say. It seems we are both at a loss. Suddenly shy, I stare down at my feet. But something forces me to look up again. Slowly, I lift my eyes to meet yours. We lock eyes, and I find myself entranced. It is as if the secrets of this world are hidden behind your smile. As if I can see the answer to every question written in the arch of your brows. As if I could fall through your eyes into another world.

For a moment, it seems like I have. Everything but you and I has vanished, and there is nothing left but _us_. You feel it too. You raise your hand, and every so gently stroke the side of my jaw. I suck in my breath, stand rigid. You softly cup my face in your hands. I find myself relaxing, leaning into your touch. Your warm wrist is close to my mouth, and I place a small kiss upon it. This time it's your breath that hitches. You kiss me. It is soft, almost reverent, but with an underlying need. Desire. Our breathing quickens. I take the final step, and suddenly we are standing flush against each other. Your hands fall down, travel down my sensitive throat and come to rest on my shoulders. I raise mine to your neck, into your hair. I want to be closer to you, still. Your fingers travel the length of my spine. Slowly, ever so slowly: as if you're trying to memorise every curve. I gasp as you brush past the hollow of my back. I arch my body, my head falls back. You kiss the bare skin I have now given you access to. Your lips follow a trail from the hollow of my throat, over the side of my neck where you can feel my blood pumping through my veins, to the spot under my ear. You plant soft kisses along my jaw line. Unyielding, eager, I pull your lips down to mine once more.

Suddenly, a noise. We break away from each other. The sound of a slamming door has brought us crashing back into ourselves. I start hearing the sound of the party again. The murmuring fills my ears. I blink, dazzled. I have to look around me to remember where I am. I take another step back. I look up at you, confused, hurt. I see pain in your eyes too. But I remember everything. You can read it in my face, and I wince when the light leaves your eyes and they grow cold again. You stand up straight, shoulders back, head held high. The masks are on, the façade is up. You give me a brisk nod, a short acknowledgement. Then you turn on your heel and stalk back inside.

You too have remembered who you are, who I am…and all that we can never be.


End file.
